


Show Me Where My Skin Begins

by SlarStarsFanFics



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Angst, Body Dysmorphic Disorder, Body Dysphoria, Eating Disorders, Effects of Reginald Hargreeves A+ Parenting, Emotional Constipation, Forgiveness, Gen, Guilt, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Low blood sugar and it’s effects, Luther Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Mostly hurt, No Incest, Post-Season/Series 01, Self-Esteem Issues, Suicidal Thoughts, Unreliable Narrator, five and luther are twins, heed the tags, its probably not healthy but who cares, theyre all doing their best, this is basically just me projecting my issues on a fictional character, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:28:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23250004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlarStarsFanFics/pseuds/SlarStarsFanFics
Summary: Luther wasn’t sure why he still felt the same heavy weight on his torso that he had before. Aching shoulders and over-stretched muscles plagued his now normal body. He caught glances of himself in his busted-up mirrors, and he swore that he could see the broad, hairy chest of his future/past self.He headed down to the kitchen in the middle of the night and opened the fridge.
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves & Luther Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves & Luther Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves & Luther Hargreeves, Grace Hargreeves & Luther Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves & Luther Hargreeves, Luther Hargreeves & Dr. Pogo, Luther Hargreeves & The Hargreeves, Luther Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Luther Hargreeves
Comments: 14
Kudos: 154
Collections: ily





	Show Me Where My Skin Begins

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Helix](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20314093) by [felldownthelist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/felldownthelist/pseuds/felldownthelist). 



> This is a vent fic, just a warning. All of the ED things are based on my own experiences. It’s probably very OOC, but I tried my best. I was watching episodes and stuff while writing to try and get the characterizations right, but I’m still not happy with it. Also, I’ve been told that my writing is very emotionless, make of that what you will.
> 
> PLEASE HEED THE TAGS, I don’t want to trigger anybody. Let me know if I missed any warnings pls
> 
> Title is from Pluto by Sleeping At Last, which is such a Luther song don’t get me started.

Luther felt himself slump over his desk. His back was aching and he felt dizzy. He thought that the pain would fade now that he was a child again, but now he realized that that was just wishful thinking.

Five had taken them back to when they were 15, and none of them knew what to make of it. Vanya had woken up in a rage, killing dad and walking out the front door. They decided to leave her alone for now. It’s not ideal, having a fifteen-year-old time bomb walking around town, but it’s better than pissing her off. After the group hug that ensued after realizing that Ben was _alive,_ they wandered off to their respective rooms, collapsing into nightmare-fraught sleep. 

Luther wasn’t sure why he still felt the same heavy weight on his torso that he had in the before. Aching shoulders and over-stretched muscles plagued his now normal body. He caught glances of himself in his busted-up mirrors, and he swore that he could see the broad, hairy chest of his future/past self. 

He headed down to the kitchen in the middle of the night and opened the fridge. 

As usual, it was full. Mom and Pogo kept it that way, occasionally hiding some treats behind the milk or the veggies. After all, seven mouths are quite a lot to feed. 

But Luther felt something holding him back. 

_Don’t grab anything, don’t! You don’t want to end up like you used to be, do you?_

He shook his head then headed back upstairs. 

* * *

  
He half expected someone to come knocking in the morning, even if it was just to chew him out for the shit he pulled in the future. Or was it the past? Oh well, the whole timey-wimey b.s. was always Five’s forte anyways.

No one came. Sometimes he could hear a presence behind his door or footsteps echoing down the hall, and other times he could hear Diego using his door for target practice. Five was right, they haven't changed at all.

Luther knew that most of his family was probably not too happy with him. Heck, he wasn't happy with himself, but that's not new. That was an issue he had been dealing with since he was a child, bowing to his father’s every whim no matter how damaging to himself or his siblings.

He did his best to pass the time. He read and reread all of the books that Ben hadn’t stolen in this version of the past. He tried his hand at painting again, but it never looked right. Instead, he decided to pick up writing again. 

He had started writing poetry while on the moon. He wrote a lot of them, picking a few to send back to Reginald, or Mom, or even Pogo. Pogo could appreciate the effort, even though none of it was good, and Grace supported everything he did, bless her. A lot of the things he wrote back then were _very dark_. He hadn’t noticed at the time, it was just him writing out his thoughts. Many of the poems and ramblings described not only his feelings about his (but it wasn't his, it wasn't!) body, but the crippling loneliness that he had felt since his siblings started leaving, and the tendril that he felt deep down that urged him to just be done with it. But even then, he had the hope that the moon mission would amount to something. Sometimes it was the only thing that kept him going. That hope was dead and gone. It was squashed the second he saw Pogo’s expression when asked where his research was. 

The things he wrote now weren't much better.

* * *

Vanya came back after a while. She had walked through the door, passing by everyone and locking herself in her room. After a few hours she let Allison in, but no one else.

Luther took a page out of her book and locked his door. He wasn’t sure how to apologize yet. He had hurt his baby sister, inadvertently setting off the apocalypse. He pulled a piece of paper out of his notebook and started scribbling words.

_Vanya,  
  
_

~~_I’m sorry_ ~~

~~_I apologize_ ~~

~~_I didn’t mean to_ ~~

_Can we talk?_

_L.H._

The emptiness in the pit of his stomach ached. He dropped his forehead onto his desk with a _slam_ , letting out a groan.

_Don’t give in._

_Don’t._

* * *

He ended up sliding the note under Vanya’s door. He didn’t know how long it’d been since he had written it.

Luther’s mind silently protested as his feet led him to the kitchen. He froze in front of the shut door.

The smell of pancakes wafted through the door, accompanied by the sound of muffled laughter. He opened the door a crack.

All six of his siblings were sitting at the table, stuffing their faces with Mom’s smiley-face pancakes. Klaus has said something funny, causing laughter to ring through the room again. Even Five was smiling. Luther's stomach was screaming at him.

He went back upstairs.

* * *

The ache kept him up all night, tossing, turning, and adjusting his pillows. Nothing worked. 

He snuck downstairs in the morning, avoiding the fridge entirely, instead heading to the coffee maker. Coffee is fine, coffee is safe. 

He watched, transfixed, as it poured into the pot. He forced his eyes to stay open and facing forwards, and he could feel his fists trembling. 

The coffee finished pouring and he grabbed a mug. He heard a door slam, causing him to drop it.

He ran back to his room, leaving his coffee and broken shards behind.

* * *

A knock on his door made him jump. He opened it cautiously, surprised to find Vanya. 

“You said you wanted to talk?” She asked. Her demeanour was much bolder than it had ever been before. 

He nodded slightly, not saying a word. He opened the door more, allowing himself to be in full view. 

Vanya’s face was overcome by an emotion. Was it… concern? Did she see what he saw too? The coarse hair and wide shoulders? She asked if he was feeling alright. He nodded.

She pushed her way in and fell into his chair. 

“So? What do you have to say to me?”

“I- I just wanted to apologize… you don’t have to accept it, it’s fine, I just… I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. I am _so sorry_ Vanya.” 

Luther stared at his feet, bracing himself for whatever happened next. Maybe she would yell, asking how he could think she would _ever_ forgive him! Or maybe she would just walk out the door without a word.

Instead, she laughed.

She **laughed**.

She laughed and told him that she forgave him a while ago. (How long had they been back again?) She gripped his hand tightly, causing a pleasant buzz to ignite under his skin. 

Then she left.

* * *

The ache started fading, thank the _Lord_! Luther couldn’t count the number of nights he laid awake because of it. What didn't fade was the fatigue and the headaches. 

He worked out, (Whenever he was able to get out of bed…) doing push-ups, crunches, planks, and weights. It was a constant cycle. Over and over, lift and push and pull and strategies stretch.

Sometimes his arms would fail him. He would collapse and feel his brain attempting to shut down. 

_Keep going. You need this. This is all you can do._

So he did. 

Mom would come by sometimes, to dust, or bring food. He never took it. “ _I already ate”,_ he’d say with a kind smile, the kind that was only reserved for her. Grace would return the smile every time without fail, but Luther caught a glimpse of sadness in her eyes every time. He wasn’t sure why. He was doing fine! Much better than he had in the future/past. 

* * *

The ache was back.

It fazed in and out consistently for what must have been a week. Now it was back with a vengeance.

_Don’t. Don’t even think about it!_

He pushed his thoughts away and headed downstairs. 

He entered the kitchen. It suddenly occurred to him that he didn’t even know if any of his siblings stayed here. He might be alone again, and he didn't know. It hurt to think that his family would leave without even just _telling him_!

He jumped. There was a finger tapping his shoulder and someone was talking to him. His eyes moved to the hand. _Chipped nail polish… Klaus._

“Hey, buddy… are you okay? You’re looking a little… spindly…”

Luther bristled. Was he really? He didn't know if that was good or not. He turned to face his brother.

”I’m fine Klaus.” 

Klaus nodded in the way you would to appease an upset child and patted his shoulder, leaving a faint tingling sensation.

”I haven't seen you around in a while. We were gonna check on you but…” he bit the inside of his cheek. They stood in silence for a moment. 

”Anywho… we're all going to that donut place after supper if you want to come.”

Luther froze. He should say yes.

_But temptation!_

_But family…_

_You'll ruin everything!_

_But I miss them…_

_But-_

_Shut up!_

”Yeah, I'll come.”

Klaus’ face lit up. ”Good, I'll tell the others. Take care of yourself, _Mein Bruder.”_ He said with a melancholy smile before skipping away. Luther felt like laughing. He didn’t know why.

_Dammit._

* * *

He went.

His family told stories about their day to day lives, or about the latest episode of a popular show. Occasionally, they would try to include him in the conversation, asking how he's been, what he's been doing as if they didn't all live in the same house. A couple of times he noticed the concerned looks they shot his way. 

_They have nothing to be concerned about._

Apparently, it was Diego’s turn to pay. They had done this enough times to have a system. No one ever asked him to come...

_You should be glad._

How do they have money? They asked what he wanted. 

”Just a coffee.” he said. ”I’m not hungry.”

”Suuurre you're not, big boy.” Diego had muttered under his breath.

_What’s that supposed to mean?_

_It’s just Diego. He doesn’t mean anything by it._

_Uh-huh. Not good enough._

The nice lady behind the counter gave them their orders. He was visibly shocked to see her push a chocolate glazed donut towards him along with his coffee. 

“It’s your favourite, right?” Diego, who had slid onto the stool next to him, asked. “I was right?”

Luther nodded.

“Good. Eat up, big brother.” Diego slapped his back.

Luther jerked. His hands were shaking. Diego was looking at him, waiting for him to take a bite. 

”You're staring at me.”

”Yup, ” he said with a rigid grin. ”And I'll keep staring until I know that you're gonna eat that.”

_He knows._

_Don't eat it..._

He did. He ate his donut, drank his coffee and…

Nothing happened. The world didn't implode, he didn't gain 50 pounds at once, and he didn't get his monkey body back. In all honesty, it was thoroughly anticlimactic. Diego turned his attention away, seeming to be satisfied. The donut tasted amazing, but that little intrusive voice refused to let him enjoy it. 

_You shouldn't have done that. You've ruined it._

Luther pushed the intrusive thoughts back once more. He forced a smile onto his face and listened to his sibling’s conversations, occasionally chiming in politely, but other than that staying silent.

_Just get through tonight._

* * *

His stomach turned all the way home. Luther remembered reading something about how the body reacts to food after not having it for a while. He decided to ask Five how long they had been in the past for when they got home. Five was the least likely to ask questions.

He never got a chance to. They pulled into the driveway and said their good night's. Luther trudged sluggishly up the stairs, attempting to quench the nausea. His stomach forcibly led him to the bathroom. Most of what came up was bile. 

_Serves you right._

He collapsed into his bed. The ache was back, and his vision was getting fuzzy. Okay, he can work with this. Get some water, take a sleeping pill, and boom! A temporary escape.

Luther forced himself out of bed and out into the hallway. His vision fell in and out of focus as he stumbled through the house. How can a person be hot and cold at the same time? Luther didn't know. It's probably not good though. 

He managed to get a glass out of the cupboard and fill it to the brim. He downed it. Glass after glass, he drank. He kept drinking until he felt the glass slip out of his hand. 

_Shit!_

It shattered. He froze. 

He could hear someone walking up behind him. They grabbed his arm. He stopped swaying. He was swaying? 

The person turned him around. It was from Diego. His lips were moving, _Is he talking to me?_ _Why can’t I hear him?_ _Why are my ears ringing?_

The hand grasped his arm tighter, anchoring him to reality. As the world blurred around him, he realized that all he could see was his brother.

“HEY! ARE YOU OKAY?” Diego’s voice pierced through the muffled mess that was Luther’s mind. It hurt his head even more. He wasn’t sure exactly what he said, but Diego hesitantly let go of his arm and stepped aside, letting him go back to his room. 

_Too much. It's all too much._

He fell back onto his bed, his body surrendering to the black.

* * *

Luther’s heavy eyelids opened up to dusty sunlight and muffled voices in the hall. His whole body felt like it was on fire and his mind felt groggy. 

He managed to push himself out of bed and onto his feet. Bad idea.

His vision doubled, causing him to keel over on the floor. He didn't know how long he stayed there. He heard hands scramble to open his door, then feet running to his side. Hands were running up and down his back. Somebody moved in front of him and put their hands on his face, stroking his cheekbone with their thumb. He felt his stomach turn again, then the hands started moving away from his back. They pulled him to his feet and started pushing him out the door. 

_Too much!_

His vision went black again.

* * *

  
Luther slowly fell out of unconsciousness. A hand stroked his hair leaving a warm buzz under his skin, and he instinctively leaned into the touch. He wasn't sure how long he stayed like that. He was enjoying the soft and cozy sensations that he had been deprived of for most of his life. Finally, he willed himself to open his eyes. 

”Hi Mom.” He said with a smile.

Grace smiled tenderly at him. ”Hello, sweetheart. Are you feeling better?”

Luther nodded slightly. ”What happened?”

”You passed out, that's what happened!”

Diego walked through the door, looking vaguely irritated. Five followed close behind him.

”Your blood sugar is dead in a ditch somewhere and you are _extremely_ underweight! What in infinite realities is going on with you?” Five asked incredulously.

Luther simply shrugged, finding himself unable to summon his voice. His throat was too choked up with both the shame from possibly being caught and the leftover rawness from heaving up bile the night before. Five sighed. 

”The others had shit to do, but they would be here coddling you if they didn’t. We've barely seen you since we got back, and that was over a month ago. When we finally do see you, you look bonier than Klaus! Now I want a real answer; What’s going on?”

The stare-off that ensued seemed to last a lifetime. Diego shifted uncomfortably, glancing swiftly between his two brothers. Finally, Luther broke eye contact, looking down in shame. Five didn't look smug, just sombre or pensive.

”I just…” Luther tries to figure out what to say. 

_How can I convince them?_

”I haven't been looking after myself as well as I should, ” He finally said with a sigh. ”and- and I know that I should spend more time with all of you, I am trying…”

“No, that’s not what we-“ Diego sighed. ”That's not why we're mad at you, asshole. Now I feel bad, dammit! We're all worried about you Luther! You're withdrawing, and it's worrying!”

”Well there's no need to be worried! I'm fine, Diego, I just need time!”

”You've had time! You've had so much time, and it's so frustrating! Have you thought that _we_ might need you around? Have you?” Diego was yelling now.

Five pulled him back. ”Diego stop it!” He hissed.

”He needs to hear it!”

”Maybe, but he's obviously going through something!”

_I'm right here... You don't need to talk to me in the 3rd person..._

Luckily, Grace intervened.

”Boys! If you are going to quarrel, please take it outside! Your brother most likely has a very bad headache, and this squabble is not helping!”

Diego and Five murmured apologies with shame readable in every part of their faces. Five hummed softly then left. Diego followed closely behind, but he stopped in the doorway to look at Luther one last time. His eyes were different. Usually, when he looked at Luther, his eyes were as cold as his knives, perfectly matching the sharpness of his words. But in that very moment, only for a moment, his eyes looked warm like Mom’s hot chocolate, but anxiety was hiding deep in them. 

Luther and Diego kept eye contact for a few moments, then he was gone.

* * *

Luther couldn't stop thinking about what Diego had said.

” _Have you thought that we might need you around?”_

_No. Should I have? Have you ever given me a reason to?_

Luther let his head hit his pillow hard. He stayed there for a while, and then he decided to go get his notepad and a pen. What else was there to do but write? 

He tried to sneak upstairs so as to not draw his brother's attention. They may have stopped voicing their concerns for his mental health, but his physical health was still on the table. They had insisted that he stay in bed. Obviously, Luther didn’t listen. 

He had almost made it to his room when he heard Klaus arguing with someone. 

“Yeah, I know that there’s a problem, Ben, I’m not that stupid!”

“Then why haven’t you seen him yet?”

“Why haven’t you?”

“I HAVE! He was asleep, but at least I went. You didn't !”

_Who are they talking about?_

Luther shook it off and continued down the hallway to his room.

His brother’s conversation had ended by the time he passed by Klaus’ room again. Their words were stirring around in his head.

_Who hadn’t Klaus visited? Why was Ben so worried about them?_

When Luther got back to the infirmary, (A room that he still hated being in, even after six years.) his vision started to blur again. He collapsed onto his bed, figuring that he could write after some sleep. He hid the book under the stiff pillow. He fell asleep as soon as his eyes shut.

* * *

Luther awoke to someone talking, not that that’s unusual. His middle brother was speaking but didn't seem to be addressing him. Again, not unusual considering his powers.

He jolted when he felt long fingers clamp around his wrist. They let go immediately.

”Woah, calm yourself _mon frere!”_

”Klaus?” he said, sounding strangled. 

”What, surprised to see me? Ben was nagging me to come see you so… Ta-da!” He waved his hands wildly.

”You jus’ scared me, thas’ all…”

”Uh-huh, ” Klaus moved to grab his hand again. ”How are ya feeling? You don't look too hot.”

”Gee thanks, Klaus.” Luther sighed. ”I'm fine, there's no need to worry.”

”You passed out.”

”And?”

”And that's bad, Luther! And here I thought I was a mess.”

”You **are** a mess.” Luther said, only half-joking. Klaus chuckled a bit. He started looking him up and down. 

”Geez you look like Five!”

Luther huffed.

”No, no! Like, you literally have the same face!”

”We do not!” 

”Well, maybe not **exactly** the same, but it's close! HEY DIEGO, C’MERE!”

Diego slid through the door on his socks. “What?”

“Look at Luther and tell me he doesn’t look like Five!”

Diego inspected his face then shrugged. “I mean, you're not wrong.” Klaus stood up. 

“I'M GONNA TELL HIM!” He said, before running out of the room. Diego left with him. 

Luther waited, then pulled out his notebook and started to write.

* * *

The day went on and food went uneaten on the side table. The sun had started going down around dinner and the moon just started shining through the window in the attic, where Luther had moved to around lunch. 

He remembered sitting in this exact spot with Allison after the family argument.

_What’s it like?_ She had asked. He still remembered his response. He had borne a part of his soul to his sister that night.

_Quiet… cold… and lonely._

He had continued. 

_Every now and then, when the sun came over the horizon just right, everything turned to white glass._

He had written about that, packed it in one of the research packages. It was for mom. He wrote other ones for her too, about her, or her paintings. She had been there for him and his siblings throughout their childhoods and had been his sole comfort after they left. When he left, she secretly pressed an empty notebook into his hand and a kiss to his cheek. Luther could have sworn he saw tears glistening on her face as he took off. 

He was drawn out of his thoughts by a loud _whoomph._ Five blinked onto the window seat next to him, causing him to collide with the window frame. If it wasn’t for the strange fact that his powers seemed diluted, he would have broken it. 

“Five what the hell?”

“So Klaus has something interesting to say to me.”

“What, the thing about us looking the same?”

“Yes, please don’t interrupt. So, at first, I brushed it off. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it. So, I took another look through dear old dad’s journal, and guess what.”

“What?”

“We’re twins.”

Luther felt like his brain stalled. “What?”

“We’re twins. Fraternal, of course, but there’s still enough of a resemblance. We didn’t spend our teen years together, and we never would have questioned as children. And I never saw my face as a young man, mirrors aren’t easy to come by in the apocalypse, so I never made the comparison.”

Luther was still processing. I mean, the fact that they were twins shouldn’t change anything, but somehow… 

“So? Are you gonna say something?”

Luther lunged and wrapped up his _twin_ in a hug. It was the first time he has initiated contact with someone since before the almost-apocalypse. That should be more significant than it feels.

Five stiffened up in his arms. He didn’t relax, but he didn’t pull away either. Luther buried his face into the crook of the other boy’s neck, hoping to smother the tears spilling down his cheeks. Five awkwardly rubbed up and down his bony back. It was strange and uncomfortable, but it was good enough for them.

_They are the same_

_In action, poise, and tone_

_Together they stand_

_Together they are at home_

_-_

_These twins will be separate_

_One day come soon_

_They will look for the other_

_Not knowing what to do_

  * _Jordan Farelli_



* * *

After Vanya killed da- **Reginald** , Pogo made himself scarce. After a couple of weeks, he started making appearances, but he seemed to avoid talking to any of them. He knew something was up, I mean Vanya did kill Reginald, but he wasn’t sure what. 

Luther ran into him in the kitchen a couple of days after the discovery. He wasn’t sure why he was there, in fact, he was trying to avoid it. The chimp was sitting with a cup of the strongest tea in the house, clearly lost in thought. Luther couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, the last time he spoke to him, he was yelling. But then he remembered the reason why he was yelling in the first place.

He decided to make a cup of tea too. He reboiled the water and grabbed a teabag out of the drawer. Pogo had noticed his presence by now. 

“Are you alright, dear boy?” He said, with an edge of worry in his voice. 

Luther bristled a little bit but nodded as if he was self-assured. He finished steeping his tea and joined Pogo at the table.

“So, I guess you’re wondering what’s going on…”

“Yes, I would very much like to know.”

“I’ll have to ask the others first… to see if it’s safe.”

“Of course.”

They both drank their tea in silence. They used to do this, whenever Luther’s solo training went too far or when he got into a fight with Diego. It used to be comforting, now it’s uncomfortable. Pogo was staring at him with a scrutinizing eye, (A look that Luther had gotten used to in the last week.) 

“You’re looking quite thin Master Luther, have you been neglecting your health?”

Luther bristled again. ”A little bit I guess. I'm doing better now, I'm just getting over something.”

”Yes I heard.” He didn't sound convinced.

Luther finished his tea and left. 

* * *

His siblings invited him to join family dinner. He had been avoiding going downstairs around supper time. They must have caught on. It’s not like he could say no either, as his siblings asking questions wasn’t something he wanted to deal with.

Grace had gotten Ben and Diego to help her make the roast beef dinner, enough to feed an entire army! Roast beef (obviously), roasties, peas, carrots, stuffing, and yams. Luther’s stomach flip-flopped at the smell. 

They had a seat set up for him in between Five and Diego. The kitchen table was the only place in the house where they didn’t have to be organized by number as children. He slumped in his seat, trying to plaster a smile onto his face. 

The food was ladled out and let’s just say that he got a generous serving. He felt bile rise up in his throat. He picked at it, spitting the few forkfuls he took into his handkerchief. His family’s voices fazed out around him and his vision doubled. His head was pounding.

_Shit, not again!_

A hand grabbed his shoulder and started shaking him. He pushed it off, shoved his chair back, and stood abruptly. The room all of a sudden filled with shouts and the screeching of chairs. A sharp pain lanced through his brain. Suddenly, he was on his hands and knees.

_Shit shit shit shit shit!_

Someone hooked their arm under his ribs and pulled him to his feet and kept him up. Luther noticed that a few plates had fallen in the commotion. 

_Someone should pick that up. Why isn’t anyone dealing with that?_

Whoever was holding him started pulling him out of the room, and he started to panic. The arm pulled him closer and kept going. It felt like it was burning him. His vision blacked out. 

* * *

When he woke up there was a glass of water dangling in front of his face. 

”Here. Drink.” Five said. 

_He looks pissed…_

Luther took the glass and took a sip.

”All. Of. It.”

”What, why?”

”Because you idiot! Apparently, you can't be trusted to take care of yourself, so I have to do it for you!”

”What are you talking about?”

Five sighed and pinched his nose. ”Alright, I'm going to be blunt, because everyone has been skirting around this question for weeks: Are you starving yourself?”

Luther felt panic start to choke him. His breathing hitched and his vision blurred. 

”Wha- Why would you think that?”

”There's a variety of reasons, ones I'm sure you already know, so what's the point of saying?” he obviously noticed Luther’s panic. ”Hey, calm down. I know you're afraid, hell, I would be as well. You have a support system, and-”

Luther’s senses went out of focus again, and he fell back onto the bed underneath him.

_Who’s room am I in?_

He felt a thumb brush something wet off of his cheek. Was he crying? Damn it, he was crying. 

“There there, ” his twin said, moving his hand from his cheek to his hair, patting it slightly. ”I’m sorry I upset you.” 

He tried to tell Five that he didn't need to be sorry, that it wasn't his fault. His mouth refused to cooperate, and his throat felt like it had the one and only time he had eaten salmon. He shut his eyes tight and tried to fall back asleep. He couldn't, he hadn't been able to in a while, but he could pretend. Eventually, the hand on his hair was left and the creaking of footsteps on the hardwood floor moved out the door.   
  


Luther opened his tired eyes after what seemed like a lifetime. Moonbeams spilt through a window to his right, illuminating his pale skin. His breathing was calm and steady, and despite the consequences, he knew he would have to face in the morning, he was at peace. It felt like it had been years since he last felt this way. 

His chest rose and fell, and eventually, he fell asleep.

* * *

The bed creaked and there was a pressure on Luther’s arm. His eyes fluttered open to see his youngest brother laying with his head on his arm. 

_Ben?_

The other boy lifted his head to look at him, and a gentle smile graced his face. Luther felt like crying a little bit. It had been forever since that smile had been directed towards him, long before that fateful mission. 

_My brother, my fault._

”Hey, how're you feeling?”

”I’m okay.” He said, unsure of who he was reassuring.

“Five told us what happened last night. You might not want to hear this question right now, but is it true? What he guessed.”

He didn’t answer, but they say that silence can scream things that words can't. Ben shimmied up the bed and draped an arm over his brother’s thin shoulders. (At fifteen, Luther’s shoulders hadn't squared yet, and his current condition definitely didn't help his demeanour.) The tension that started plagued his body as soon as he awoke bled out at the contact. 

”This sucks.” Ben said. Luther couldn't agree more.

* * *

Diego was pacing outside of his door, he had been for an hour. Allison stopped by about thirty minutes ago, unshed tears glistening behind her eyelashes. Klaus had joined him and Ben that morning, then they both ran off to who knows where. Five was nowhere to be found. Vanya held his hand in silence, informing him of how her powers were shaping up. She didn't seem happy, but she was much less melancholy than she was last time around.

Diego’s pacing was driving Luther up the wall. He threw his head back and tried to cover his ears with his pillow. It did nothing to muffle the creaks and thumps outside of his door. 

“Hey! Come in or leave, but **please** stop pacing!”

Diego stomped into the doorway. As usual, he was mad. 

“You want me to be in here, fine!” He stomped in and fell back onto the bed, “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did’ ya do it?” 

Luther let out a shaky breath. ”I don't know.”

”Yeah you do.”

“Diego, I can’t deal with this right now-“

“You can’t deal with what? It’s a valid question, why’d you do it!”

“I CAN’T DEAL WITH YOUR SHITTY ATTITUDE! Look, I don’t care anymore! I don’t care if you think I’m fucking weak, or unworthy, I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT!”

“I DON’T THINK THAT YOU FUCKING WEAK LUTHER! Fucking idiot you’re gonna make me say it, I’M WORRIED! I’M WORRIED BECAUSE YOU’RE MY BROTHER AND DESPITE WHAT YOU SEEM TO THINK, I CARE ABOUT YOU!”

“I’m sorry, but when have you eVER GIVEN ME A REASON TO THINK YOU CARE? GIVE ME ONE TIME THAT YOU’VE GIVEN ANY FUCKS ABOUT ME OR MY LIFE!”

Diego’s face was blank. Luther kept going.

“When. How about when we saw each other at the funeral? Or during the memorial service? Or how about before looking for Five? Or when you left the academy without even a goodbye? You constantly try to belittle me to make yourself bigger, and I’m SICK OF IT! Look, I’m sorry that dad made you number two, but newsflash! The numbers never mattered! For years, I thought it was important, but it’s not.” Luther vaguely registers that he’s crying. He keeps going. “And instead of fucking communicating like normal brothers do, you took it out on me, making fun of the body that I FUCKING HATE! I HATED IT SO MUCH, AND YOU JUST-“ He broke off, burying his head in his hands. Tears filled the crevices in his hands. He realized that he couldn’t breathe.

“Is that why you're doing this to yourself? Your ape body? You don’t have it anymore, you don’t have to do this!”

“Fuck you.”

Diego didn't say anything, he clapped his hand onto his brother's back and rubbed his shoulder in an attempt of comfort. 

”I'm sorry.” 

Luther nodded. 

”I mean it. I'm sorry, and I love you.”

Luther looked up, incredulous.

”Hey, don't look at me like that, I mean it! I love you, man.”

”Love you too.” Luther managed to choke out of constricted lungs. He leaned against his brother's side. Diego adjusted his arm to half-hug him

”It’s gonna be okay. We're gonna be okay.”

* * *

”We should take you to a hospital.”

Luther choked on the water he was drinking, (which he was hesitant to take from his mother because if his siblings were anything, they were sneaky.) Five looked extremely serious, which was a difficult thing to do when you were cuddled up in a bed with your twin brother. 

”What you're doing, it's not safe. You're skin and bone, your blood pressure is way too low, you're at risk for heart failure... Need I go on? This can and will kill you if you don't get help. Ergo, hospital.”

”What am I going to say? If I go to a hospital, they for sure will ask questions.”

”I’ll get you a fake I.D.”

”You know how to do that?”

”Of course I do.”

And that was that.


End file.
